


Sloanville Holiday

by dsa_archivist



Category: Kung Fu: The Legend Continues, due South
Genre: Crossover, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-23
Updated: 1999-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-10 06:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11122011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: This story is a sequel to He Said Always.He Said Never.





	Sloanville Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Sloanville Holiday
    
    
     Note: This story is a sequel to "He Said Always...He
    Said 
    Never," with a more serious bent. All previous caveats apply. I 
    thought I would try something new with the format; I hope it 
    isn't too confusing.

\-----

*Yes, sirree, our fair city is a fine place for a vacation. (Or   
is that the other way around?) The weather is beautiful this time of  
the year...so I hear from people who actually go outside. ;-) There's  
plenty to see and do. We even have a particularly   
enjoyable museum, which I personally recommend, though it may not compare  
to the ones you have in Chicago.

Of course, we also have an excellent police force to keep our   
citizens and visitors safe.

If you're still worried about the boys, I can keep tabs on them   
and then check in with you periodically to let you know they're   
all right. How much trouble do you think they could possibly get into,  
anyway?

Don't answer that.

TTFN, Kermit*

***

# Sloanville Holiday
    
    
    or: May I Vacation with You?
    A Due South/KF:TLC Crossover
    by Amparo Bertram
     
    *They arrived safely this afternoon. Nope, no gunshot wounds in 
    either the Mountie or the wolf--that's one ice cream cone you owe me,
    Siren! I'm keeping track, and virtual ice cream doesn't 
    count...*
     
    Ray took his eyes off the road briefly to glance at his friend in the
    passenger seat. "So, what have you got on that itinerary of 
    yours?"
     
    Constable Fraser scanned the first page of his meticulous list. 
    To commemorate being on vacation, he had foregone his uniform in favor
    of a simple red shirt and jeans. He had brought his Stetson with him,
    however; it rested neatly on the Riviera's dashboard. 
    "Elaine suggested that we try the museum. It seems they're having a gem
    exhibit all this month."
     
    "A museum? You gotta be kidding."
     
    "Why not? It sounds educational." Only Fraser would be able to 
    deliver that line with such an air of innocent eagerness.
     
    "Exactly." Ray refused to allow the Mountie, no matter how good 
    a friend, to undermine his efforts to have a good time. "This is a vacation.
    Repeat after me, 'va-ca-tion.' The second rule of 
    vacationing is *never* do anything educational."
     
    "Second rule?" Apparently his curiosity overcame his natural urge to
    dispute the point. He looked up at Ray expectantly, eyebrows 
    raised.
     
    "The first rule is that you must spend as much time on the beach as possible--which
    I could have done in Miami, if it hadn't been for you." He grumbled under
    his breath, only enunciating the 
    words, "Elaine...not even a detective..."
     
    Beside him, Benny sighed. "I said I was sorry, Ray."
     
    "Yeah, well, at least the second rule should remain sacred. What else
    have you got on that list? Any sports?"
     
    "Um..." He made a show of extensively searching all three pages 
    of the itinerary. "There doesn't seem to be--"
     
    "There's *got* to be something non-educational to do in a city 
    this size. Did Elaine mention any good clubs?"
     
    From behind him, in the back seat, Diefenbaker gave a slight 
    "rrruff" and stuck his nose into the front. Fraser reached up and absentmindedly
    scratched one furry ear. "I know, Dief, I haven't forgotten."
     
    "Forgotten what?"
     
    "I promised him we'd visit Caine while we were in town. He has 
    really become quite fixated on the man." He paused a moment in 
    thought. "Ray, did Caine do anything unusual during the time the two
    of you were with him?"
     
    "Unusual in what way?" The detective wasn't certain he wanted to discuss
    how Caine had found one of Bon Bon Hai's minions by 
    sensing the evil in his aura.
     
    "It's just that he could see... Never mind. I'm sure it's 
    nothing."
     
    "At least the wolf can come up with a decent suggestion. All 
    right, point the way." He waited a few seconds. When no answer 
    was forthcoming he added, "You do know where he lives, don't 
    you?"
     
    "I don't really have an exact address."
     
    "Oh? What have you got?"
     
    "Chinatown."
     
    "That's *it*?" He groaned. This was almost as bad as randomly 
    asking bus drivers to take them to Mike's House. "How do you 
    expect us to find him? I suppose we'll just pull up to someone on the
    sidewalk, roll down the window, and ask for Caine? Honestly, Fraser..."
     
    *Needless to say, they had no trouble locating Caine.*
     
    "Thank you kindly for your time, Ma'am," Fraser said. He drew his head
    back into the car and rolled up the window. "Three blocks 
    down and turn right. She says we can't miss it, we can see his 
    plants from the street."
     
    "Why not?" Ray muttered, pulling back into traffic without 
    signaling. "The place is probably a city landmark. I bet they 
    even bring tours by on the weekends." He didn't really have a 
    good reason to let the sarcastic words slip out; he did want to 
    see Caine, and he was glad they would be able to find the 
    priest's home. It just irked him that Fraser had turned out to be right
    yet again.
     
    The mild-tempered Canadian took his friend's attitude in stride. "Ah,
    there it is," he said, pointing. Diefenbaker barked in 
    agreement.
     
    Ray found a parking spot for the Riv and the three of them 
    approached the building. When they got to the Shaolin's door, 
    Fraser rapped politely. It didn't appear to be locked, but the 
    Mountie would probably rather stand outside till Canada melted 
    than enter uninvited. Unless, of course, he believed someone 
    inside needed his assistance, in which case he would no doubt 
    kick down the door.
     
    Such a drastic measure turned out to be unnecessary in this 
    situation, however, since it opened within moments. An old 
    Chinese man stood before them, shoulders hunched, spectacles 
    shining like the round eyes of an owl. "You are here to see 
    Caine?" he asked, his voice accented.
     
    "As a matter of fact, we are," Fraser answered. "I am Constable 
    Fraser. This is Ray Vecchio, my friend, and Diefenbaker, my wolf. Caine
    met us in Chicago, and he said that were we ever in town we should visit
    him."
     
    "Ah, of course, he has told me--many things--about you." He 
    opened the door to its fullest extent and motioned them inside. 
    Dief brushed past him and trotted in. Fraser smiled an apology 
    for his wolf's poor manners and followed as the old man escorted them
    with a shuffling gait to Caine's living area.
     
    The priest crouched beside a table cluttered with pots and 
    plants, giving Dief a vigorous, hands-on welcome. His son leaned against
    the doorframe that led to the balcony, a smile lighting 
    his lips at the sight of friends, but sadness darkened his eyes 
    and tension argued with his stance. Ray guessed that their 
    arrival had interrupted a pretty serious conversation.
     
    While Benny described how much his wolf had looked forward to 
    this visit, Ray made his way across the room to Peter. "Did we 
    come at a bad time? We can wander around town, come back later, 
    if you'd rather be alone."
     
    The other cop shook his head. "Nah, don't bother. It's just a 
    case I'm working on. I'm having a bit of trouble with it."
     
    "A case?" Ray knew how it could get sometimes, when you felt 
    mired in a case. It sucked you away from your life, and the rest of the
    world wasn't all that big on throwing lifelines. Yet even while sinking
    you *knew* you had to get to the bottom of things 
    because someone out there depended on you.
     
    "Something's going down. Something big. And I can't find out what it
    is." His gaze dropped to the floor. "There have been two 
    deaths already, both informants."
     
    Ray winced. "And now no one's talking?"
     
    "Exactly. And the one man I thought would help me out has 
    vanished--I fear the worst." He sighed. Ray almost mirrored the 
    action, in sympathy; he had been there. "I was hoping either my 
    father or the Ancient could shed some light on the problem, but 
    they haven't heard much."
     
    "Any leads?"
     
    "Just one. Someone's hiring. A red-haired woman, promising a big payoff.
    I don't know if she's the brains of the operation or just the flunky
    in charge of employee relations, and I don't even have a complete description."
    He shook his head again and looked up. 
    "But you didn't come here to listen to my problems. You're on 
    vacation, right?"
     
    "Yeah, well..." How could he have let it slip his mind, even for a moment?
    "It must be the Mountie's bad influence." Next thing he knew, he'd probably
    wind up *volunteering* to go to a museum! 
    "What can I say? After all, I gotta at least *offer* to help a 
    guy who survived supper at the Vecchio house."
     
    Peter chuckled at that, his gloom lifting. "I could use a hand 
    with this one. But I don't want you to feel obligated."
     
    Ray waved his concern aside. Elsewhere in the room, Fraser and 
    Caine had lapsed into Chinese, while the Ancient amused himself 
    by tossing a series of tidbits to Dief, who eagerly snapped them out
    of midair. "You can repay me by showing me the city's hot 
    spots. If I stuck with Fraser, I'd spend the whole time listening to
    string quartet recitals."
     
    "You've got a deal."
     
    *After a short stay at his father's, Peter decided that he would be better
    served returning to the precinct. He brought along 
    Detective Vecchio, who had agreed to help him on his latest case. From
    what I hear, Vecchio gave his car keys to the Mountie, 
    albeit reluctantly and with dire warnings about touching the 
    lighter.
     
    I'm not sure yet what Fraser thinks of our city, but after today Vecchio
    certainly considers it a home away from home.*
     
    Peter knocked on the office door, studying the words "Detective 
    Griffin" painted across the window in stark black letters and 
    wondering idly why Kermit hadn't redone it in green. Then the 
    computer specialist called out a muffled "enter" and Peter did 
    so, Ray trailing behind.
     
    Kermit grinned at seeing the Chicago cop. "Welcome to the 101st, Detective
    Vecchio. You seem to have made it here safe and sound. What happened
    to the other two members of your little expedition? You didn't shoot
    them on the way, did you?"
     
    "Nah, they're at Caine's. But, so help me, if Benny even *thinks* about
    touching my lighter..."
     
    "Kermit, did you get that information I asked for?" Peter cut in. He
    disliked not knowing what was going on in his territory, and 
    he felt time slipping away with every beat of his heart. If he 
    didn't put a stop to it soon, more people would die.
     
    Kermit leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "More 
    or less...mostly less," he admitted. "No rumors of any major arms or
    drug shipments coming into or out of the city. No armored 
    cars. No high-profile kidnappings, although that's not to 
    preclude the possibility of such in the future. No outstanding 
    political targets. Even the world of organized crime seems stable at
    present."
     
    Peter swore under his breath, but he recognized the futility of 
    losing his temper over yet another dead end. "What about the 
    woman with red hair?"
     
    "I ran a check on known red-haired, female felons in the right 
    age bracket. I came up with a list of twenty possibles--the 
    printouts are on your desk. But with hair color so easy to 
    change, I'm afraid there's not much chance of finding the right 
    woman. What you *really* need--"
     
    "Peter! Hey!" The piercing female voice cut through the babble in the
    squad room. "Peter Caine!"
     
    "Geez," Ray exclaimed, scratching his ear. "That sounds like my 
    sister."
     
    The three of them spilled out of Kermit's office. "I'm over here, Lula,"
    Peter called, waving to attract the attention of the tall brunette.
     
    "Peter, there you are, thank goodness!" She strode over and 
    clutched at the sleeve of his shirt. "You've gotta help my Donny. He's
    in trouble."
     
    "You know I would if I could, Lula, but I haven't been able to 
    find him. Where is he?" His spirits rose at the thought that 
    Donny Double D hadn't yet been silenced by the mysterious forces mobilizing
    in the city. He had been worried ever since the 
    informant had disappeared after the two other murders.
     
    She shook her head. "He wouldn't tell me where. He just said he 
    has some important information for you, and that he needs 
    protection." 
    Peter managed to disengage himself from her deathgrip. "Do you 
    have a way to contact him?" He stared into her eyes, trying to 
    will her to calm down, though his own excitement was rising. This might
    be the break that would let him crack the case.
     
    "He left me a number so I could call him back."
     
    "Can you tell him to come see me? I'll do everything in my power to keep
    him safe."
     
    "Are you crazy? Come to a police station in broad daylight? Not a chance.
    He'd be caught before he crossed the parking lot."
     
    "Okay, then tell him to meet me at my father's place in 
    Chinatown. If my father can't protect him, no one can."
     
    "I will. Thank you, Peter." She planted a kiss on his cheek. "You always
    come through. Hold on while I make the call, and I'll come with you."
     
    Peter let her use his phone and waited while she contacted Donny. Beside
    him, Ray shook his head in amazement. "She reminds me of 
    Frannie."
     
    "You mean Francesca?" He remembered the other cop's sister, the 
    one who had prodded him verbally from across the table and then 
    physically beneath it when he had eaten at the Vecchio house. 
    "There is a certain similarity," he admitted.
     
    "You let me know if you find anything," Kermit said, taking a 
    step toward his office. "I've got work to do."
     
    "Thanks for the help," Peter tossed after him.
     
    "Don't mention it. Oh, and Vecchio," he said over his shoulder, 
    "thank *you* for the ice cream."
     
    "Ice cream?" Peter and Ray exchanged puzzled glances, but neither one
    of them had a clue.
     
    *Peter returned to his father's place with his two passengers. It turns
    out he was right to be excited, since this was indeed the 
    break for which he had been searching; however, at the time, he 
    little suspected the true impact Donny's information would have, nor
    whose lives it would most affect.
     
    Then again, Caine always maintained that, in the end, everything must
    come full circle.*
     
    Peter paced the length of the room. He knew his inability to sit still
    and wait amused his father, who occasionally glanced at him while showing
    his collection of herbs and flowers to the Mountie, but he just didn't
    feel right unless he was *doing* something.
     
    Lula appeased her anxiety by talking, and she found a pair of 
    receptive ears in Ray. The Italian cop had probably heard half 
    her life story by now, but he didn't seem to be complaining and 
    in fact had no trouble holding up his end of the conversation. 
    The Ancient had left a short while ago to take Diefenbaker for a walk.
    
    When he heard the first sounds of Donny's arrival, Peter dashed 
    out to the door, throwing it open and dragging the man inside 
    before closing it again securely. "Are you all right? Did you 
    have any trouble getting here?"
     
    Donny Double D tugged on his rumpled jacket in a vain effort to 
    restore it to presentability. He had apparently been in hiding 
    for some time. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Where's--?"
     
    He had no chance to complete the sentence before Lula scooped him up
    into a crushing embrace and a liplock at which even Peter 
    raised his eyebrows. Finally, after Peter had begun to marvel at her
    lung capacity, she set him down. "You had me worried sick!" 
    she exclaimed, walking him back to the room with the others. 
    "Don't you *ever* give me a scare like that again."
     
    "Sorry, babe, I didn't have much choice. It's not like I could 
    prance down Main Street after getting caught witnessing a 
    murder."
     
    "What?!" cried Peter, Lula, and Ray in perfect unison.
     
    "Yeah, that's what I came to talk to you about," he explained to Peter.
    "I was out trying to find more dirt on this red-headed gal and I wound
    up with a lot more than I bargained for. I saw her 
    off a guy." He shivered. "Shot him, in the head, point-blank, not a flicker
    of emotion on her face."
     
    He had the total attention of everyone in the room after such a 
    revelation. Peter reached out to grab the informant's jacket 
    again but checked himself at the last second and withdrew his 
    hand. "Did you get a good look at her? Could you ID a picture of her
    or put together a composite?" He felt anticipation thrilling through
    his blood.
     
    "Are you kidding? I was *this* close to her--I'm lucky she wasn't fast
    enough to take me out right then and there. I'll never 
    forget her face."
     
    Lula gasped and would have broken into another bout of scolding 
    if Peter hadn't waved her to silence. "Great. I'll drive you to 
    the precinct and you can--"
     
    "No way! She's not stupid. She's got men looking for me, and 
    that's the first place they'll stake out."
     
    The detective groaned in frustration, but he knew Donny was 
    right. Before his hopes fell too far, however, Fraser spoke up. 
    "Perhaps I might be of assistance. Although I have had no formal training,
    I do have some small skill at rendering fairly accurate likenesses on
    paper. I would like to offer my talents as an 
    alternative to risking this man's life by removing him from the 
    safety of this building."
     
    Peter looked at Ray. "Is he any good?" At the other officer's nod he
    snapped his fingers. "Then let's get the man a pencil and 
    paper, shall we?" He hustled Fraser and Donny over to the table, sweeping
    aside the scattered implements of his father's 
    apothecary trade, and set between them the pad of paper and 
    pencil that Caine provided.
     
    At that point the Ancient returned, Dief tagging faithfully 
    alongside. Peter brought Lo Si up to speed on the situation while Ray
    once again kept Lula occupied by listening to her voice her 
    vexation.
     
    After a few minutes Peter noticed that the Mountie had stopped 
    sketching. He stepped closer and peered at the drawing. His first glimpse
    of it was stunning; a trained artist couldn't have done a better job
    if the subject were sitting right in front of him.
     
    The portrait depicted a beautiful young woman with short, 
    straight hair and Grecian features. Peter could even see the 
    force of a strong will shining from her eyes. He gave a low 
    whistle. "She's gorgeous. It's hard to believe someone like her 
    could be a cold-blooded killer."
     
    Fraser's shoulders tensed, his back straightening as though he 
    were standing at attention. He set the sketch pad on the desk 
    slowly and deliberately, laying the pencil neatly beside it. 
    "Yes," he sighed. "I know."
     
    Donny pointed excitedly at the drawing. "That's her. I'm sure of it.
    She's the one I saw."
     
    At such emphatic testimony from the witness, Fraser winced. He 
    pushed himself out of his chair. "I think I need some fresh air," he
    announced, and strode off.
     
    Peter watched his retreating back, confused. He managed to catch Ray's
    eye and waved the other cop over. "Come take a look at 
    this," he said.
     
    "What is it?" Ray asked, putting down what he was working on and joining
    Peter at the desk.
     
    "Something got your friend riled up. I thought nothing could get under
    his skin, you know? Almost like my father." He slid the pad over. "Check
    out this picture and tell me why it disturbed him 
    like that."
     
    Ray did so, leaning over the sketch with an agreeable smile. His expression
    turned grim almost instantly, however, and his head 
    snapped around to stare at the door through which the Canadian 
    had vanished. "Oh, my God!" he murmured, too stunned even to 
    raise his voice. "Victoria."
     
    *Yep, that's right, Donny had met up in a dark alley with Vicious Vicky
    herself. [shudder] If anyone had seen fit to inform *me* of this development...well,
    you know my opinion on the subject. As 
    it is, I just now found out, too late to affect matters one way 
    or the other.
     
    Anyway, I thought you'd appreciate knowing what happened next.*
     
    Peter shook his head in confusion. "Victoria...?" Out of the 
    corner of his eye he saw his father follow the Mountie.
     
    "You know this chick?" Donny put in.
     
    "Know her? I let her sleep in my sister's bedroom. That was 
    before..." His eyes took on a faraway look, as if he were 
    reliving a memory.
     
    "Before what?" Peter insisted. "Come on, Vecchio, this is 
    important. What did she do?"
     Ray sighed. "What *didn't* she do?" He proceeded to recapitulate briefly
    the events that had transpired since Victoria came to 
    Chicago. "We had recently been released from the hospital when 
    you first met us," he concluded.
     
    Peter let the story run through his mind, trying to soak up all 
    relevant information. He couldn't help empathizing with Fraser's pain.
    "To be betrayed and abandoned by the one person you love 
    most in the world," he whispered. And the Canadian had barely a 
    few months to recover, which brought up an ugly possibility. He 
    had the utmost respect for the Mountie's character, but under the circumstances
    he was forced to ask. "Can he be trusted?"
     
    Ray exchanged glances with the wolf, who gave a noncommittal 
    rumble deep in his throat and lay down at the Ancient's feet. The policeman
    shrugged. "I honestly don't know. She made him crazy. 
    I'd like to think he's gotten over her by now, but when push 
    comes to shove who's to say he won't chuck it all and follow her again?"
    
    "All right, here's what we do..." He looked around the room. "I'm afraid
    I can't include Constable Fraser on this one, since 
    there's a clear conflict of interest, so that leaves--damn!" It 
    suddenly occurred to him what Caine's absence signified. "I was 
    counting on my father to look after Donny and Lula."
     
    "Me? Why me?" the woman asked.
     
    "Because, from all accounts, Victoria is an intelligent and 
    ruthless woman who will do anything to prevent getting sent to 
    jail, including using you to get to Donny. That means you have to stay
    here, especially since you might have been spotted going to the police.
    I'd stay to watch you myself, except--"
     
    Dief barked twice and turned his head to peer up at Lo Si. The 
    old man nodded. "Yes, that is an *excellent* suggestion. We will care
    for them."
     
    Peter sometimes had difficulty divining the Ancient's meaning 
    during the best of times; now he was completely mystified. "We? 
    Who's 'we'?"
     
    Lo Si smiled and bowed. "The wolf and myself, of course." At his feet,
    Dief faced Peter and grinned, tongue lolling.
     
    "I'd take him up on it, if I were you," Ray said, clapping a hand on
    the other cop's shoulder. "That leaves the two of us free to 
    track her down and toss her behind bars where she belongs."
     
    He couldn't dispute that kind of logic. "Sounds like we've got a plan,"
    he agreed. "Donny, do you have anything else for us to go on?"
     
    "Not much. She's keeping a low profile, and people are afraid to talk
    because of...you know."
     
    "Even a small detail could be helpful."
     
    "Well, she seems to have a thing for red--as in, the color. After hearing
    her story, I'll take a wild stab in the dark and say that might be due
    to a certain Mountie's influence."
     
    Ray snorted. "She's obsessed, that's for certain." He studied the sketch
    of her, then picked up Fraser's hat. As he did so, several sheets of
    paper fluttered to the ground. "What the--? Oh, the 
    itinerary." He stooped to pick them up.
     
    "Itinerary?" Peter asked.
     
    "Yeah. Fraser made this whole list of things for us to do on our vacation."
    He flipped through the papers, scanning the various 
    items. "Looks like we'll never get a chance to see 
    that...museum..." His words trailed off and his eyes widened 
    enormously.
     
    "What's the matter?"
     
    "This is it!" Ray held up one of the sheets. "This is why 
    Victoria is here."
     
    "To interrupt your vacation?" he hazarded. He couldn't read the 
    writing on the page while the other officer waved it around.
     
    "She's certainly succeeded in doing that--but no. It's the 
    museum. The gem exhibit." He allowed Peter to snatch the paper 
    from him. "Benny must have been too modest to tell me, but the 
    main stone on display is called--"
     
    "--the Fraser Ruby," Peter finished for him, reading the 
    description in the Canadian's itinerary.
     
    *Where had Fraser and Caine vanished to at this point? Well, you can
    probably guess how Vicky's reappearance threw our favorite 
    Mountie into severe emotional turmoil. He may have accepted what she
    did to him, but he had by no means resolved his feelings for her.
     
    And if there's one thing Caine knows best, it's how to help 
    people in need.*
     
    The Shaolin caught up with Fraser in a side alley two blocks 
    away. The Mountie had apparently put sufficient physical distance between
    himself and the incriminating portrait of Victoria that 
    he had drawn with his own hand. He sat on the ground, back 
    against the brick wall of a building, eyes closed. His pain shone like
    a flare in the gathering darkness.
     
    "I'm all right," he called out, not opening his eyes. "Go back to your
    son. He'll need your help to capture her."
     
    Caine halted, more surprised than he had been in some time. While he
    didn't *intentionally* sneak up on people, his soundless walk often startled
    those not expecting him. Had he accidentally 
    kicked a pebble in the street or made some other noise that 
    alerted the Canadian to his presence? He found himself asking, 
    "How did you know it was I?"
     
    "Mint."
     
    "I beg your pardon?"
     
    Fraser finally looked at the other man. "When you were showing me your
    plants, you brushed your hand across a pot of mint." He 
    tapped the side of his nose. "I could smell it."
     
    The priest chuckled ruefully and settled down, cross-legged, in 
    front of him. "I shall remember to wash next time."
     
    Fraser's lips curved into a half smile, but it faded as swiftly 
    as the shifting colors of sunset. "I really am okay. You must 
    have more important things to do than listen to the delusional 
    ramblings of an exiled Mountie."
     
    "I...have not." He shrugged. "Tell me of her, this woman for whom you
    hold such strong feelings."
     
    "Ah...Victoria," he sighed. He lifted a hand to his head as 
    though to touch his Stetson, frowned when he realized he had 
    taken it off, and brushed his hair back instead. "It's rather 
    complicated. I don't really know how I feel."
     
    Caine shook his head. He refused to allow the younger man to hide from
    his emotions any longer; he could see the damage such 
    behavior had already caused, and if Fraser were to heal it could not
    continue. "No!" he said forcefully. "Do not explain. Do not 
    excuse. Just talk."
     
    Fraser leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the heavens.
    "I loved...no, I *love* her. I felt so close to her, as though I had
    known her for a thousand lifetimes."
     
    "Perhaps you had."
     
    "Hmm. And that's why I could have forgiven her almost anything. 
    Whatever she did to punish me for sending her to prison--well, I deserved
    it. Even when she killed, I could see that she did it 
    out of desperation and fear. But the key..." A tear slid down his cheek,
    barely visible in the shadows.
     
    Caine regarded him in silence as, one by one, the fires of the 
    stars kindled in the night sky.
     
    Finally Benton summoned the courage to go on. "Why?" he demanded. Somewhere
    inside him he found a rage that gave him the strength 
    to pound his fist against the unyielding ground. "I thought I 
    knew her soul. It was so beautiful... I thought we were meant to be together.
    I only wanted a chance."
     
    Caine felt an impulse to take the distraught young man into his 
    arms and comfort him, as he did for Peter, but the time was not 
    yet right. Instead he projected his empathy in his voice. 
    "Sometimes those who were together in a previous life are not 
    destined to be so in this one."
     
    "I know, I know, I know. But I really believed I *had* to be with her.
    When she tried to hurt Ray, when I could no longer excuse 
    her behavior, I still loved her with all my heart. I couldn't 
    face living without her. I couldn't face the regret."
     
    The priest realized that he had just touched on a much deeper 
    issue. He needed to draw the Mountie out further. "Regret?"
     
    "For sending her to prison. For ruining her life. For making her into
    what she is today."
     
    "Ah. I think...I am beginning to understand. Tell me, Ben, did 
    you instruct her to commit her first crime?"
     
    "Of course not!" He swallowed. "No, I hadn't met her at that 
    point. But I am responsible for putting her in jail."
     
    "Did she receive a fair trial?"
     
    "Well, I assume so, but I don't see--"
     
    "Then you delivered her to those who ensured she would face the 
    consequences of a decision *she* made."
     
    "Years in prison--"
     
    "The penalty accorded to her by the law you have sworn to 
    uphold."
     
    "But I could have let her go!"
     
    Caine paused to let the words settle into the night before he 
    responded. "Then you would truly have cause for regret."
     
    Benton's sharp intake of breath was more of a sob than a gasp. 
    "That's not--" He stopped, too choked up to speak. After a few 
    moments he tried again. "That's not what I want to hear."
     
    "No. It is what you *need* to hear." Caine unfolded himself and 
    moved unerringly in the darkness to the Mountie's side. Now was 
    the right time.
     
    Fraser accepted the kindness of the welcoming embrace and rested his
    head against the priest's sturdy shoulder. "That's what my 
    father would have said," he whispered.
     
    "Yes."
     
    "Thank you kindly."
     
    *Meanwhile, back at the ranch...
     
    Peter didn't know when Vicky intended to steal the exhibit, but 
    running with the assumption that she had been planning this for 
    quite a while he alerted the museum staff and those in charge of security
    (not me this time, unfortunately) right away, then drove straight there
    with Vecchio. Luck was on their side, for they 
    arrived before she did--barely.
     
    Oh, BTW, that's a second ice cream you owe me. Ray did wind up 
    going to the museum.
     
    I'll say this about Vicky, she doesn't mess around when it comes to getting
    a job done. I wonder what the ensuing events looked 
    like from her point of view.*
     
    Victoria smoothed a wrinkle in her sleek, black body suit and 
    waited for Jack to show up at their appointed meeting site. 
    Raising capital for this venture had been simple; she merely 
    talked her way into several minor bank jobs. Anyone could acquire funds
    if he were clever and unscrupulous enough. This time money wasn't her
    goal, it was only a means to an end. No, she only 
    truly desired one thing in this world. She wanted Fraser.
     
    Just as she was about to check her watch, Jack joined her in the shadows.
    He was a bit too slimy for her to associate with on a 
    regular basis, but his knowledge of the area and his higher-than- the-average-thug
    intelligence made him a good right hand man for this job. "What took
    you?" she demanded.
     
    He looked around before responding, as if afraid someone would 
    overhear. "Silver and Larson haven't reported in. I think they 
    got a lead on that troublesome witness who's been evading us."
     
    She frowned. "I told them to *be here*... Oh, well. If they 
    manage to take care of him properly, it'll be worth it. If not, 
    they know my ground rules." She had enough experience with ice to be
    able to incorporate it into her voice at will. "Are the others in position?"
     
    "Ready and waiting for your command."
     
    "Excellent. You know your instructions?"
     
    "I'm the backup. I stay here and make sure you get away without a hitch."
    
    She patted his shoulder. "Hopefully you'll be bored to tears." 
    She picked up her walkie talkie and spoke into it two words. 
    "Move *now*." She tucked the small unit into her belt, secure in the
    knowledge that the men she had hired were already converging on the museum.
    "See you on the way out."
     
    Jack saluted as she left for her rendezvous with destiny.
     
    ***
     
    Victoria darted through the darkened hallways, keeping to the 
    course she had mapped that avoided the surveillance cameras. She knew
    that her bright red hair and lipstick stood out against her light skin,
    but she had invested a great deal in this appearance and at this point
    would rather take a slight risk than change it.  
    Just as she started to push open the door to the exhibit room, 
    which one of her advance team members had left unlocked for her, she
    heard a crash of breaking glass and a series of thuds, as of flesh hitting
    flesh. If those dunderheads had started fighting 
    over the prize--! She threw open the door, gun drawn, a second 
    before her walkie talkie crackled to life.
     
    "Cops! They're onto us, let's get outta here!"
     
    She could see instantly that it was true. One of her men had been knocked
    through a display case, and two more sprawled on the 
    floor, unconscious. She easily spotted the two policemen amid the chaos.
    One of them dropped the man holding the walkie talkie with an impressive
    spin kick, coming to rest with the grace of a 
    leopard. The other crouched partially behind the central display.  
    
    She took aim at the standing figure. She hadn't yet killed a cop, but
    her desire for the ruby was an icy core within her and it 
    gave her the power to do anything necessary to accomplish her 
    goal.
     
    "Caine, look out!" shouted the half-hidden man as she pulled the trigger.
    
    That voice! She hardly noticed that her target dove out of the 
    way in the nick of time. The sound of that voice held her 
    paralyzed until a bullet drilled into the door by her head. A 
    burst of adrenaline exploded in her and she twisted to duck out 
    the doorway, but a strong hand caught her wrist and dragged her 
    back inside.
     
    She struggled to get away, but he spun her expertly into the 
    circle of his arm and shoved a gun behind her ear. "Well, well, 
    what have we here?" he asked in . He snatched the red wig
    from her head and tossed it on the floor, revealing the dark curls she
    had pinned up underneath.
     
    She seethed with anger, letting it crystallize inside her with 
    the sharp edges of a snowflake.  belonged to Ray 
    Vecchio, the only man who had been able to thwart her ambition. 
    Because of him, Ben wasn't with her now. Vecchio had shot her 
    lover in the back to prevent him from escaping with her.
     
    But if Vecchio was here, perhaps...? She contested his grip 
    slightly as a token resistance, expecting it to remain steady. 
    "You won't shoot me," she said. "You're a cop." In front of her, the
    other policeman stood a few feet away and watched. Her men in this room
    were all out cold, and the others had no doubt gotten 
    away, warned by the message she had been too late to heed.
     
    "Oh, yeah? Is that what you think, Victoria?" He ground the 
    muzzle of the gun against her skull. She had to bite her lip to 
    avoid crying out in pain. "Do you remember what I said to you 
    that first time? 'Hurt him and I'll kill you.' Ring a bell?"
     
    She remembered, and his tone as he dropped the words in an 
    offhand manner chilled her. He *would* kill her, and not think 
    twice about it. She swallowed. The other cop, Caine, reflected 
    the tension of the situation in his face. He held out a calming 
    hand. "There's no need for that, Vecchio. We have her. Let the 
    law sentence her."
     
    The pressure of the gun diminished, although not very much. "You heard
    what she did to Benny," he said, speaking to the other 
    officer. "She did something to him that I thought no one in the 
    world would be cruel enough to do. She took away his innocence. 
    You don't know what heartbreak is until you've looked into those big
    Mountie eyes and seen the utter devastation of all his 
    dreams."
     
    His voice trembled with emotion, but his grasp on her stayed 
    firm. She had to get away from him, somehow. She didn't want to 
    die, but she would rather he shot her than take her to jail 
    again. Perhaps if she tried talking him out of it, he would 
    relent. "Ray," she began, "Ray, think about this--"
     
    Her words choked off with a gasp as he grabbed her throat with 
    the hand not holding his gun. "Shut up!" he commanded. His palm 
    was hot and sweaty against her skin.
     
    Caine took a step forward, now clearly worried. "Detective! She's not
    worth it. Not in cold blood." He took another step. "Put the gun away."
     
    The fingers squeezed more tightly around her neck, leaving her 
    struggling to breathe for an eternal instant, then released with a vicious
    jerk. The Chicago cop groaned in resignation, lowering the gun from her
    head. "You're right. She's not worth it."
     
    While the two policemen relaxed instinctively as the moment of 
    danger passed, she drove her elbow into Vecchio's stomach and 
    shoved him into the other man, then dashed through the doorway 
    and sprinted down the hall. She knew it wouldn't take them long 
    to catch up with her, so she had to find a hiding place, and 
    quickly.
     
    The time she had spent mapping out the museum came in extremely 
    handy. She turned into a cross corridor, took an immediate left, and
    tucked herself behind a statue of Satan in the "Religions of the World"
    exhibit, well covered by the raging flames at his 
    feet. She could wait until they had passed her in their search 
    and then sneak out, to meet up with Jack.
     
    She no longer cared about the ruby. Somehow fate had caused 
    another crossing of paths, and this time she *would not* lose.
     
    *After their talk in the alley, Caine took Fraser out for a late supper.
    (Before you ask--*yes* Chinese food. Honestly, Siren...) He felt that
    our favorite Mountie needed some time away from the crowd, and he had
    no way of knowing that Peter and Ray were 
    already facing Vicky at the museum.
     
    Okay, so he may have had *some* way of knowing, but he was too 
    involved in the problem at hand to use it.
     
    In any case, neither of them returned to Caine's place, where 
    discussion of another sort was going on.*
     
    Dief yelped and glared accusingly at Donny. Anxiety crossed the 
    face of the witness as he considered what damage those teeth 
    could do to him if the wolf took it into his feral little mind to attack.
    "Sorry!" he exclaimed hurriedly. "I didn't know you were a family ma--uh,
    wolf. I'm sure kids are fine, once you get to 
    know them..."
     
    Lula's smug grin didn't help much, either.
     
    Just then the Ancient returned to the room, a steaming bowl of 
    soup in each hand. He gave one to each of the guests. "There you are,"
    he said, smiling pleasantly. "Enjoy."
     
    From the vicinity of the floor came a strangled whine so forlorn and
    full of pathos that Donny nearly choked on his first spoon of soup. *This*
    from a creature that, a second ago, might have 
    swallowed Granny whole and tracked down a few pigs for dessert?
     
    The Ancient shook his finger at the wily wolf. "None of that! I 
    have something else for you. Come with me."
     
    Dief perked up, ears pricking to full attention even though he 
    was supposedly deaf, and padded after the old man. Donny wondered what
    could be found in a Shaolin's house that would satisfy a 
    carnivorous wild animal, then shivered and realized he probably 
    didn't want to know. Not that he *really* believed Caine 
    kept...things...around, but one could never be sure.
     
    "Mmm, this is good stuff," Lula said, breaking into his thoughts. "Do
    you suppose he'd give me the recipe?" She downed another 
    spoonful appreciatively.
     
    "I don't see why n--" He hesitated. Was that a creaking on the 
    fire escape he heard? He waited a few seconds, but whatever noise had
    attracted his notice didn't repeat itself. Just nerves, that was it.
    Hiding for your life will do that. He looked back at 
    Lula, who was waiting for him to finish his sentence. "That is, 
    unless it's some Shaolin secret, shrouded in mystery, handed down for
    generations," he concluded.
     
    She snorted. "Right. Or it could be Campbell's Cream of Celery," she
    scoffed. "...Hey, I know it's not sparkling conversation, but you could
    at least *pretend* to be listening."
     
    "Did you just hear something?"
     
    "Yeah, it was me talking to myself. I don't know why I bother 
    someti--"
     
    "Shh!" She could be angry at him later. At the moment he was more concerned
    with listening for that telltale...
     
    *click*
     
    The bowl of soup shattered in his hands, splashing its contents 
    over him, the floor, and several nearby plants. He froze, mind 
    tricked for an instant into believing that the hot liquid had 
    come from inside him and that he had been hit. Lula, under no 
    such illusions, grabbed the front of his shirt and dragged him to the
    ground just as another shot rang out above their heads. The 
    stink of gunpowder hung in the air as two more bullets zipped 
    past.
     
    A white blur streaked across the floor and he heard a savage 
    growl that sent tingles up his spine and made him feel like the 
    bottom of the food chain. He chanced a peek in the direction of 
    the sounds and saw two hulking shapes on the balcony harried by a snarling
    bundle of teeth and claws. One of the men got off two 
    more shots, both of which missed, before the wolf managed to grab his
    hand in powerful jaws, forcing him to drop the gun.
     
    The other thug--and there was no disputing his status as a 
    thug--tried to aim for the animal without hitting his partner, 
    who was yowling in pain and trying to shake the wolf loose. 
    Before he had a chance to fire, however, a hand came down hard on his
    wrist, causing his gun to fall.
     
    Cursing loudly, the man threw a punch at the Ancient, who blocked it
    with an almost negligent wave of his arm. The man tried again, this time
    putting his whole weight into it. The Ancient caught 
    his fist and, stepping out of the way, tossed him across the room where
    he crashed into a chair, knocking himself out cold.
     
    The first man, meanwhile, had managed to dislodge Dief from his 
    arm and was trying to back through the wall to get away from the snapping,
    fiery-eyed demon in front of him. The Ancient came 
    calmly up beside him and pinched his neck. The man's eyes rolled up and
    he crumpled to the floor.
     
    Dief sniffed him a few times to be sure he wasn't going anywhere, then,
    with no trace of the elemental fury he had shown mere 
    moments before, leaned against the Ancient's leg for a rewarding scratch
    behind the ears.
     
    Donny picked himself up from the mess, still shaking from the 
    close call, and gave Lula a helping hand. His shoes crunched on 
    the shards of the bowl and he shuddered.
     
    The Ancient shuffled toward them, smiling. Dief followed at his 
    heels, tail wagging happily. "Ah, I see you have had an 
    accident," the old man said. "Would you like another bowl?"
     
    Donny looked at the two thugs who had come to kill him and 
    swallowed. "Uh, no offense," he said, "but I think I just lost my appetite."
    
    *I was still holed up in my office when Peter's call for backup 
    came, so I didn't hear about it until afterward. They rounded up four
    of Vicky's men and prevented the robbery, but they didn't 
    catch the Queen Viper herself. They did, however, put her on the run.
    
    Months of preparation down the drain, her plans in ruins, and 
    worst of all, thwarted by Ray Vecchio. They should have known she wouldn't
    give up so easily.*
     
    Victoria went through the apartment at which she had been 
    staying, dumping her essential belongings into a pair of black 
    duffel bags. Jack half-reclined on her bed and watched. She had 
    askedhim to stick around, in case she needed him for anything 
    else.
     
    "Too bad about the heist," he said, complacent because he had 
    fulfilled his part of the deal and been well paid. "That stone 
    would've looked real nice on you."
     
    She tossed one of the bags into the corner by the door and turned to
    face him. "The ruby is *nothing*. I've got a chance at the 
    original Fraser, and you're going to help me."
     
    He shrugged. "Depends on what you want me to do, and how much 
    it's worth to you."
     
    "Information, to start with." She crumpled a red blouse and 
    crammed it into the bag she still held. "Tell me everything you 
    know about a cop named Caine."
     
    She didn't like the way his eyes bulged in shock before he burst into
    uneasy laughter. "You're kidding, right? This is one of 
    those hypothetical exercises, isn't it? I mean, you don't expect to tangle
    with Peter Caine, do you?"
     
    She zipped up the stuffed bag and threw it in the corner with its mate.
    "Caine is the name of the other officer who was at the 
    museum. He's the connection Ray has to this city. If we can--"
     
    "No way!" Jack put his hands up to block the possibility. "You're not
    dragging me into this. If Peter's involved--or, God forbid, his father--it's
    no wonder your plan failed. It might have taken me several tries, but
    I've learned my lesson. I don't care how 
    much you pay me, it's not worth messing with them again."
     
    "Why?" She stalked over to the bed and raked him with a chill 
    gaze. "What's so special about this particular cop?"
     
    "I hate to admit it, but Peter's one of the best the city's got. He's
    the hotshot type who'll do anything to get the job done. I 
    even gotta respect the guy, a little." He shook his head. "It's 
    his father who gives me the creeps."
     
    "His father?"
     
    "Yeah. Kwai Chang Caine. Everyone in Chinatown knows him, and a 
    lot of other people do, too. News like him gets around pretty 
    quick."
     
    She narrowed her eyes. If the only ones standing between her and Ben
    were a cop and his father, this might turn out to be easier 
    than she dared to hope. On the other hand, she got the feeling it took
    quite a bit to scare Jack, and he seemed dead set against 
    the idea of facing that family unit. He hadn't told her the whole story.
    "So what is he? Some kind of special agent?"
     
    He laughed again. "Not even close. He's a Shaolin priest."
     
    She frowned and turned her back on him in disgust. He was playing her
    for a fool. She decided to ignore him and get on with her 
    planning. "Think about it, Jack. Ben was ready to join me last 
    time. He'll do it again. With him on our side, we can accomplish *anything*."
    She checked the apartment over to be sure she hadn't left anything important.
     
    Jack pushed himself up into a sitting position. "Didn't you hear what
    I just said? Caine is no ordinary man. He's got these--I 
    don't know what else to call them--powers. He can *do* things."
     
    "Mm hmm," she said absently, pulling out each of her dresser 
    drawers in turn and making certain they were empty.
     
    "Nobody has been able to take out the two of them--*nobody*--and believe
    me, some really scary types have tried their best. Or 
    worst. It's almost as though together they're invincible, or 
    something."
     
    "Invincible, right..." She dusted off her hands and went to check the
    closet, letting Jack ramble on about how they were trained in martial
    arts and various other arcane skills.
     
    "If you had seen some of the things I've witnessed, you wouldn't even
    suggest--"
     
    She cut him off. "Enough!" It had been vaguely amusing at first, but
    he was taking the bad joke much too far. She wanted his 
    advice, but not if he was going to go on irrational tangents. "I don't
    have anything against them, personally. All I want to do is use them
    to find Ben. Do you think you can handle that?"
     
    He crossed his arms and considered. "Maybe. As long as I'm out of the
    line of fire. I won't kid you, I plan to be well away in case anything
    goes wrong."
     
    "Not quite. If something goes wrong, it will be your job to see 
    that I get free. Whatever else happens, you make sure that I 
    don't go to prison. Break me out of lockup if you have to. 
    Anything it takes."
     
    "As long as I don't have to antagonize Caine, you've got a deal. I don't
    know why you're so obsessed with this Fraser guy, 
    anyway." He turned her own words back on her. "What's so special about
    this particular man?"
     
    A cold smile graced her lips. Hate, love, that about covers it... "He's
    the key to everything I've wanted my whole life. He's...he has...he can..."
    She stopped, realizing that she was babbling. 
    How could she sum up someone as complicated as Ben in only a few words?
    
    "Is he really worth facing Caine for?"
     
    At that she nodded, the answer to her question finally as clear 
    as ice. "He is. He is a Mountie."
     
    *Somehow Vicky managed to hook up with Jack Wong, one of the 
    nastiest pieces of work marring our fair city. He's been in 
    league with some real monsters in the past--Bon Bon Hai, for 
    instance--but I didn't think he would sink so low. 
     
    He must have been the one who led her to Caine's place. After 
    all, the boys didn't exactly go to any trouble to hide their 
    presence, especially leaving Ray's Riviera conspicuously parked 
    outside. Then again, I doubt they suspected that her next strike would
    come so soon.*
     
    Peter entered his father's home bright and early the next 
    morning. After preventing the museum robbery and then taking in 
    the two assassins the Ancient had managed to capture, he had 
    decided to call it a night. He had given Donny and Lula a ride to Lo
    Si's, where they agreed to stay until they could be certain 
    they were in no danger from Victoria.
     
    Ray and his Mountie friend had already arrived and were debating whether
    or not they should cancel their vacation. Ray didn't want to let a little
    thing like running into Victoria ruin their fun, but although Fraser
    didn't want to dampen his friend's spirits, 
    he didn't seem to be in the mood for a good concert, either.
     
    Peter came up behind the Chicago cop and cleared his throat. "I 
    could show you around town like I promised yesterday," he said. 
    "Fraser, you could stay here with my father while we're out. I'm sure
    he would enjoy your company." He didn't know what had passed between
    the two the previous night, but whatever it was must have put the Canadian
    through the emotional wringer. He looked the 
    better for it, though.
     
    "That I would," Caine declared on the tail of Peter's suggestion, entering
    the room with Dief alongside. The wolf immediately began pacing the room,
    sniffing the air.
     
    The Mountie cocked his head and considered. Peter noticed he 
    wasn't wearing his hat, which stuck out as unusual because he had kept
    it on the entire time they had been in Chicago, except when eating, and
    had brought it along with him. "That sounds as though it will be a satisfactory
    solution for all concerned. Very well, I--"
     
    He might have continued, but just then Dief began whining and 
    trotted over to the balcony.
     
    "What's the matter?" Ray called out, ignoring the fact that the 
    wolf couldn't hear him. "Doughnut truck going past?"
     
    Dief's whine deepened into a growl.
     
    Peter saw a subtle shift in Fraser's demeanor. He didn't exactly straighten
    up, for he hadn't been slouching in the first place; 
    rather, a certain intensification of his gaze and concentration 
    of his attention contributed to the effect. "What is it, 
    Diefenbaker?"
     
    As if in response, a terrified, feminine scream rose from the 
    street below. All the occupants of the room dashed to the 
    balcony, Fraser in the lead, in time to see a slim figure sprint around
    a corner and out of view. Dief started barking and clawing at the wall
    that kept him penned in.
     
    "Right. Go." Without a moment's hesitation, Dief took off down 
    the fire escape. The Mountie set his jaw, scrambled up onto the 
    brick ledge, and leapt out into the space beyond.
     
    Peter's heart nearly stopped at the sight. He knew from personal experience
    that Fraser was prone to jumping out of windows to 
    pursue his quarry, but this was so...high. He didn't let his 
    breath out until he saw the familiar bright red figure running 
    along a nearby rooftop. "Pop," he began, "Maybe you 
    should--where'd he go?" Suddenly he and Ray were the only ones in the
    place.
     
    "Come on," the other officer said, gesturing toward the door. 
    "Unless, of course, you'd prefer to join Benny..."
     
    "No! I mean, the door is fine." Together they headed outside.
     
    "Did you see which way they went?" Vecchio asked, pausing to scan roofs.
    
    "I'm not sure. I think..." He hesitated. Something nagged at him, buzzing
    at the back of his consciousness. Something out of place. He closed his
    eyes, the better to listen.... A car, motor running, directly
    across the street. He opened his eyes and 
    nodded in its direction without looking at it. "We have company."  
    
    "You think this is a setup?"
     
    "That's what my instinct tells me. Okay, I'll give him something to watch,
    you go around behind him."
     
    "Got it."
     
    Peter drew his gun and made elaborate, visible hand gestures 
    indicating that the Chicago cop should check down the block for 
    the source of the commotion. Hopefully the man behind the wheel 
    of the car would jump to the conclusion that Ray would follow 
    directions and so dismiss him from mind. Peter carefully kept his attention
    away from the vehicle while simultaneously backing 
    toward it as though by purest chance.
     
    Within moments he heard Ray's voice from behind him. "All right, keep
    your hands where I can see them, and turn off the engine. 
    Slowly! That's it. Hey, Pete, you know this slimeball?"
     
    Peter dropped the charade and jogged the few yards to the car, 
    stopping by the driver's open window. "Well, well, well, isn't 
    this a surprise? Whatcha doing here, Jack? No, let me 
    guess...birdwatching?"
     
    "Hey, you got nothing on me, Peter. I'm just minding my own 
    business. I've got as much right to be here as anyone."
     
    Peter leaned against the car door and grinned, pointedly 
    examining his gun. "Sure you do, Jack. And since you're such a 
    model citizen, you'll be glad to tell us what you saw here a few minutes
    ago."
     
    "I don't have to tell you anything."
     
    "True. Oh, by the way, I don't think I've introduced my friend, 
    Detective Ray Vecchio. Ray's from Chicago. He was just explaining to
    me how they do things differently in such a big city. Cops 
    have got to be a lot tougher on crime there. Isn't that right, 
    Ray?"
     
    Luckily, Vecchio knew a cue when he heard one. He put on his best weaselly
    smile. "Right you are, Pete. As a matter of fact, we're under constant
    orders to go with our gut feelings when it comes 
    to getting snakes like you off the street, and my gut is telling me I
    need to make a couple warning shots across your bow." He 
    shifted his gun so that it pointed directly at the center of 
    Jack's chest. "Unfortunately, I think I should've had my sights 
    adjusted."
     
    Peter felt like bursting into applause, but he managed to keep 
    his poker face intact. Ray was an unknown quantity, and Jack 
    finally folded, unable to be certain that it was all a bluff. 
    "Okay, okay," he said. "I didn't want to be in on this in the 
    first place. There's this woman, Victoria, and she's crazy over 
    some Mountie. She thinks she can get him to join her. That's what this
    is all about."
     
    "Son of a--" Ray exclaimed. He slammed his fist against the car 
    door. "I *knew* I should have taken care of her when I had the 
    chance."
     
    Peter turned to gaze at the place where he had last seen Fraser. "Don't
    worry," he said. "My father will make sure everything 
    comes out okay. I hope."
     
    *Yep, that's our Mountie, always ready to answer a cry for help. You
    know it, I know it...and Vicky knows it. Rather than seek him out, she
    devised a simple method to prompt him to chase her of 
    his own free will--coincidentally making it that much easier for him
    to keep on running once he caught her.
     
    Her plan? Scream and run.*
     
    He pelted across the roof at top speed and vaulted to the next, 
    heedless of the distance to the unforgiving ground below, always keeping
    his quarry in sight. The slight form was only a short 
    distance ahead of him, although down on the sidewalk, and he 
    could see a purse dangling from one hand.
     
    The fugitive pushed through the traffic of morning pedestrians, 
    knocking down several and overturning a cart full of fruit in the process.
    Apparently frustrated with these obstacles, the thief 
    ducked into a vacant alleyway and continued on at a good clip. 
    Fraser changed his course in compensation without slackening his pursuit.
    
    He took his eyes from the street for a moment to survey the 
    upcoming terrain. The path he followed would peter out soon, so 
    he had to find a way to reach ground level without falling too 
    far behind. He spotted the truck right away, parked tantalizingly beneath
    an accessible fire escape.
     
    While the purse snatcher paused to scramble over a fence, Fraser dropped
    onto the fire escape, hopped down to the top of the 
    truck, and jumped from there to the ground. He looked up--
     
    --just in time to see Caine step out of a shadow and grab the 
    fugitive's wrist. With a smooth motion, the priest deftly 
    relieved the figure of the stolen purse. The figure struggled, 
    but Caine held its arm pinned securely.
     
    "Let me go!"
     
    Benton froze at the sound of that voice. He hadn't recognized her in
    the jacket and sunglasses with her hair shoved under a 
    baseball cap, but her voice was seared indelibly into his heart. "Victoria?"
    
    Caine released her and she stumbled forward two steps before 
    regaining her balance. "Ben?" She smiled. "I knew you would come for
    me."
     
    He could only stare, his mind numb. He had known she was in town, of
    course, but after the bust the previous night he had never 
    expected her to show up. He had thought she would've been long 
    gone. "Victoria? What are you doing here?"
     
    "I came for you, Ben."
     
    "For me? But--"
     
    "When you were shot, when I thought you might die, I felt like an icicle
    had pierced me clean through. I knew I couldn't live 
    without you. Ben, I want you to come with me."
     
    "I can't..." He had to admit to himself that the idea was very 
    tempting. He could leave town with her, right now. No one would 
    be hurt this time. He would miss Ray, true, and Dief...
     
    As if in answer to his musing, the wolf bounded over the fence, 
    on the trail of what the others had assumed was a petty thief. 
    His lupine sense of smell hadn't been fooled, however; Fraser 
    recalled that he had responded to Victoria's scent even prior to the
    faked robbery.
     
    And he was mad. He snarled at her, lips drawing back from his 
    fangs in a clearly threatening manner.
     
    Victoria paled and backed away, right into Fraser's arms. She had good
    reason to be scared; the last time she had been with Dief 
    she had shot him. Not a situation likely to engender feelings of fraternity
    and goodwill.
     
    "Dief, no!" Fraser ordered. "I said no. I'll take care of her."
     
    The wolf stopped growling and sat, but he focused an expression 
    of ravening hunger at her throat.
     
    Benton looked up at the Shaolin, who stood silently. "What should I do?"
    
    Caine shrugged. "You should follow your heart," he said 
    enigmatically."
     
    It didn't help that she felt so good in his arms. He knew that 
    she was a thief and a murderer, and that if he went with her he 
    would be drawn onto her path, but when she trembled and clung to him
    for protection he was hard pressed to bring himself to care 
    about those disadvantages. He loved her so much...
     
    But would he then truly have cause for regret?
     
    He sighed and bowed his head, bringing his lips close to her ear. "Victoria..."
    
    "Yes?"
     
    "There's something I have to say, before I decide. I'm sorry. I'm sorry
    that you had to spend so much of your life in prison, and 
    I'm sorry that you believe it was my fault. But I want you to 
    know that...I no longer regret not letting you go." There. He 
    said it. And it felt right.
     
    She tensed in his arms, about to protest, but he had finally 
    realized what his heart called him to say and he could hold it 
    in no more. "Just as I will not regret it now."
     
    "What are you talking about?"
     
    He tightened his grip on her. "Please come quietly. I am turning you
    over to the authorities."
     
    "How can you?" she pleaded. "Ben--?"
     
    Every word was like a shard of ice as it left his mouth, 
    sharpened by the force of his conviction. "Consider yourself 
    under arrest."
     
    *You'd think it would be over at this point, right? I mean, happy endings
    all around, a heartwarming tale of danger, self-
    realization, and evil vanquished. Well...almost.
     
    Don'tcha just hate loose ends?*
     
    Peter snapped a pair of cuffs on Victoria and led her to his car. He
    wanted to thank Fraser for capturing her, knowing the personal cost the
    deed signified, but the Mountie was off helping a fruit vendor collect
    his spilled wares. He had only stuck around long 
    enough to turn her over and pick up his Stetson.
     
    Peter wished he could have brought in Jack as well, but he didn't have
    any evidence of a crime. "Conspiracy to commit a theatrical performance"
    probably wouldn't stick, and he couldn't prove 
    anything more serious.
     
    He nearly tripped on Diefenbaker. The animal gave new meaning to the
    phrase "dogging his steps" as it kept a careful watch on 
    Victoria, making absolutely certain that she didn't attempt an 
    escape. He got the impression that the wolf was hoping she would try
    it.
     
    Come to think of it, she acted extremely calm for someone who 
    reportedly hated jail with a passion. Especially since this time she
    would be charged with multiple murders. He didn't like it, 
    but he couldn't exactly complain because she was behaving 
    herself.
     
    He shut her in the car, nearly slamming the door on the wolf's 
    nose. "Sorry," he muttered when Dief jumped back with a yelp.
     
    "You can't really blame him," Ray said, half-sitting on the trunk of
    the Stealth and glaring daggers at the prisoner through the 
    rear window. "She's as slick as ice. She got away from us once 
    before."
     
    "I'll be careful." He paused to brush some short, white hairs off his
    sleeve. Dief managed to look suitably embarrassed. "Anyway, I want to
    thank you for your help. I couldn't have prevented the 
    robbery without you, not to mention collaring the one 
    responsible."
     
    "Aw, it was nothing. Besides, it was worth every second to see 
    that she gets put behind bars where she belongs...although I'm 
    not sure how Benny feels about it."
     
    "My father said the Mountie finally found his way out of the 
    blizzard that had blinded his inner eyes."
     
    "What the hell does that mean?"
     
    Peter shrugged. "You've got me."
     
    Ray laughed and shook his head. "He's really something, you know that?
    Of course you do, he's your father." He looked around. 
    "Where did he run off to, by the way?"
     
    "I think he went to tell Donny and Lula that they should be safe now."
    He smiled as a thought struck him. "You know what else he 
    said? That Fraser would have made an excellent Shaolin."
     
    "Benny, a priest?" He had to mull over that idea for a few 
    moments. "Well," he concluded, "at least he's got the poverty 
    thing down pat, and he can stand for hours without moving a 
    muscle, which I suppose is rather like meditation."
     
    "He always helps people in need," Peter pointed out, "and he's 
    kind to everyone."
     
    "On the other hand, you'd probably have to pry him out of his 
    uniform with a blowtorch and other implements of destruction, 
    which I can't see happening anytime soon."
     
    Dief barked in agreement. Then he barked again for another reason entirely.
    
    "Whoops, here he comes!" Ray nudged Peter and said in a voice 
    quite loud enough for the Canadian to hear, "Don't let on we've 
    been talking about him."
     
    Fraser smiled as he approached, recognizing his friend's brand of humor.
    He glanced at the interior of the car, where Victoria 
    steadfastly ignored him, without the slightest change in his 
    expression. "That's quite all right, Ray," he said. "I've been 
    talking about you. As a matter of fact, the two of us have 
    received an invitation to supper tonight."
     
    "Great!" Ray slid off the trunk of the car and headed for his 
    Riviera. "We can go right after we get back from the ballpark. I hear
    there's a local match today."
     
    Fraser's brow wrinkled as he turned to follow his friend. "I 
    thought we were going to the ice sculpture demonstration in the 
    Southgate Plaza."
     
    "Not on your life." He settled into the driver's seat, after 
    holding the door open long enough for Dief to jump in the back.
     
    "What about the zoo...?"
     
    Peter could still hear them arguing as they drove away. "Some 
    vacation," he mused. He couldn't help chuckling. "Come back 
    anytime."
     
    *There you have it, Siren. The whole story. Peter filled me in on the
    details when he brought in Vicky this morning. I don't trust her any
    more than you do, and I'm sure she has some kind of 
    scheme up her sleeve, but I can't figure out what it might be and I can't
    watch her twenty-four hours a day.
     
    At any rate, I hope the boys have a good time while they're in 
    town. From now on, that is. I'm sure they'll be able to agree on *something*
    before their vacation time is up.
     
    Which reminds me--I have a vacation coming soon, and I have to 
    collect those ice cream cones sometime. So...what does Chicago 
    have to offer?
     
    TTFN, Kermit.*
     
    THE END
    


End file.
